


You Don’t Have to Do This

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24068752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: You try to convince Steve that he doesn’t have to be the hero.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	You Don’t Have to Do This

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after Bucky falls from the train and before Steve leaves to take down HYDRA and goes into the ice.

“Steve, wait!”

You ran down the hall and snatched at his sleeve, wanting him to stop for one  _ damn _ minute so you could talk to him. Just one damn minute.

“What?” he growled, swinging around to look at you.

You hated the look on his face, hated the way his obvious feelings for you were warring with his sense of duty and you could see it on his face, feel it coming off of him in waves.

“You don’t get to be angry with me, Steve,” you snapped. “You don’t.”

“You’re angry with me,” he shot back.

“Because I don’t want you to do this, run off half-cocked because of what happened to Bucky -”

“I am not discussing this with you anymore,” he sighed. He spun on his heel and walked away, pushing through the door at the end of the hall hard enough that it slammed into the wall.

You took a deep breath and contemplated giving up. You leaned against the wall, worry, anger, and pain roaring through you. Steve was stubborn, more so since the death of his best friend, but you loved him and he loved you. Damn it, he was going to listen to you whether he wanted to or not. You pushed yourself away from the wall and followed him, sliding to a stop when you found him sitting at the conference table, a bottle of whiskey near his elbow, and a glass in his hand. He slammed the glass down on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What? Did you come to yell at me some more?” he growled.

“No,” you murmured, easing into the seat beside him. “You can’t get drunk, Steve.”

“Don’t you think I know that,” he muttered. “I’ve been trying for a week, ever since Bucky -”

You rested your hand on his and squeezed it gently. “Steve, honey.” You exhaled slowly. “You don’t have to do this.”

“But, I do,” he shrugged. “If I don’t, they won’t stop.”

“Maybe there’s another way,” you whispered.

“Force is the only language they understand, like bullies,” he snapped. “It’s the only way to end this. HYDRA must fall and I have to be the one to take them down.”

“No, you don’t. Please, Steve, just...you don’t have to do this.” You were begging and you knew it. Something deep inside of you was telling you that this was going to go very, very wrong and that you would lose him. You didn’t know how or why you felt like that, but you did.

You pushed yourself out of your seat and climbed into Steve’s lap, your arms slipping around his neck, your lips brushing over his. Tears were sliding down your cheeks and your heart felt like it might pound out of your chest. You couldn’t lose him, not to HYDRA. They’d taken enough from you; they couldn’t have him too.

Steve wrapped his strong arms around you, crushing you to his chest, his mouth slanting over yours. He rose to his feet, stumbling across the room to press you against the wall, his body flush against yours, desperate, needy sounds coming from him. He grabbed your thigh and pushed your skirt up your leg, his hand cupping your ass, squeezing it, his blunt, calloused fingers digging into the soft flesh. You groaned, your hands fisting in his jacket to drag him closer, your desperate, needy sounds filling the air along with his. You wanted him, needed him.

“Steve,” you gasped.

His fingers twisted in your underwear, ripping the flimsy material from your body, two fingers pushing into you, thrusting roughly. You fumbled with the belt and the button on his uniform pants, impatiently pushing them down, his thick, hard cock springing free. You grasped him and slid your hand down the length of his shaft, his hips flexing instinctively. He shoved your skirt up over your hips, pulled your legs around his waist, and lined himself up with your entrance, slamming into you hard enough to chase the air from your lungs.

You inhaled sharply, head thrown back, relishing in the feel of him completely filling you. He moved, hard and fast, his grip on your hips so tight you knew it would leave bruises, not that you cared. He slammed into you repeatedly, the drag of his cock against your sweet spot driving you right up to the edge. He kissed a trail up your neck, one hand splayed over your breast, squeezing it, the nipple a hard pebble, aching as it brushed against the soft cotton of your bra.

Steve’s teeth sank into the juncture where your neck and shoulder met, marking you even as he pounded you into the wall. You held onto his shoulders, your eyes squeezed shut, sinful moans leaving you. A tremble raced through you as you let go, the orgasm consuming you, taking you over completely. Steve was right behind you, his face buried against the side of your neck, his cock pulsing as he came.

When it was over, Steve held you in place, kissing you until you couldn’t breathe. After a few minutes, he set you on your feet, your skirt sliding down your legs back into place. You brushed his hair off his forehead and kissed him on the corner of his mouth.

“I have to go, Y/N,” he said. “We’re leaving in an hour.”

All you could do was nod, your fingers tangling with his, trying to keep him with you for just a minute longer. He pressed a kiss to the center of your forehead and then he was gone. All you could do was watch him go, wondering if you would ever see him again.


End file.
